The Inmates Are Running The Asylum
by sketzocase
Summary: DakenxBullseye story. What can I say, it's a guilty pleasure. Anyway, Bullseye finds himself being locked up in a home for the mentally unstable/ criminally insane. Daken's not quite ready to give him up. Choas ensues


It had been a quiet shift for Mary Hoch, the head night nurse at Wellingtons Home For The Mentally Unstable. (A nice way to say 'bat shit' crazy as well as some cases of criminal insanity.) Really, all in all, Mary thought it was a nice break. No taunting or fights… and more importantly no cat calls. Mary was modest, but not modest enough to deny the certain level of her attractiveness. Here in the men's ward, it was pointed out often by the patients on a day to day basis. Horny men and all that. The blonde woman rose to her feet with a sigh, starting the insanely boring task of doing her nightly rounds.

At least at night the patients were easy to keep track of. She opened door after door, finding all the occupants snuggly tucked into bed, sleeping.

Upon reaching her last door, Mary took a deep breath. Expecting the worse, as she'd been taught to do with this particular patient. Opening the door, she had to bite back a curse.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was high-pitched and breathless due to shock. The patient was kneeling on the floor amongst what had to be two hundred and fifty something white plastic forks.

The bald man smiled wickedly. "Should ask what I could be doing." He sneered. "Mary."

The blonde stepped further into the room. "That's Nurse Hoch, Lester." She would have showed him the respect of using his last him… but no one could get him to tell them what it was. "Now, what are you doing up at this hour and where did you get all of those forks?"

Lester turned his shockingly blue eyes to her, holding up one finger. "Can't sleep." Then with another wicked looking smile, he held up another finger, "And I can't tell you that, baby."

"You're not allowed to have any object on your person that Doctor Simpson and Director Fury don't approve of."

"I can't have a fork?" Lester sneered. "You people are a bunch of fucking idiots."

Mary had to bite her tongue to keep form telling the obviously insane criminal that he shouldn't be here at all. She personally thought they'd made a mistake when opting for this place instead of jail.

Before she could articulate a response, she experienced a sharp pain on the side of her neck. Before she blacked out from blood loss, she was able to force herself to push the emergency call button on the walkie talkie attached to her belt. Knelling to the floor, she used the last of her strength to pry the plastic fork out of her jugular.

"Bull's-eye." Lester chuckled darkly, stepping over the slumped, bleeding woman, and out into the hallway.

* * *

**One week later**

"He took out five personnel before we could sedate him." Mark, one of the few security guards was able to say, over coming his chocked up feelings about his fallen comrades. "That was a week ago, and we still haven't done anything about security around him."

Doctor Simpson, a dignified, older African American gentleman, shook his head. "I'm interviewing new security as well as some more nursing staff, in a few a minutes." Simpson spread his hands in a helpless fashion. "Besides assigning someone to Lester at all times, that's the best I can do."

Mark, of the buzz cut and the olive skin, nodded his head. "I'll personally take charge of watching him, sir. If you'll let me that is."

"Of course." The Doctor said with a smile. "Now If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for the first interview." He motioned with his hand to the door. "Would you please escort Mr. Akihiro in?"

"Yes sir." Mark said, smiling a little as if pleased to be doing a task.

In a few moments he came back with an insanely attractive half Asian man, wearing a black, designer suit, with his silky hair done up in a well styled Mohawk.

"Mr. Akihiro." Dr. Simpson extended his hand across the table. "Why don't you tell me what qualifies you for this job."

The man smiles and leans for. "Nothing at all. I'm grossly under qualified." His gray eyes locked onto Simpson's brown ones. "But your going to give me the job anyway."

And in that moment, the good doctor felt no reservations about agreeing with the man.

"You'll be working as the head night nurse in the men's ward." He said, feeling somewhat hazy. "When you can you start?"

Another smile graced the face of the beautiful creature across the desk. "Tonight."

"Tonight it is." Simpson smiles. "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you." The man got up, his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking smug.

"Sir," Mark asked hesitantly from the doorway. "Shall I show the next interviewer in?"

The doctor shook his head. "That won't be necessary. The position is filled. Go out and tell those in the lobby that I'll only be seeing security hopefuls now."

Mark's mouth dropped open. "You filled the position after one interview?"

Simpson, feeling a little confused now, nodded. "I guess I did."

Mark raised his eyebrow. "The guy was that good?"

"I guess he was." Simpson felt clammy, and he had no idea why. "It shocked me as well." He said with a nervous laugh. "Something inside of me just told me he was the right fit."

"Go with your instincts, sir." Mark said, offering up a smile. "I respect that."

"Yes, well." Simpson coughed into his hand. "Please show the other's in."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Lester was a little too happy today. The high from his almost escape hadn't completely worn off yet. Who really cares if he hadn't really gotten out? He'd made those bastards in charge suffer. That had to count for something.

He was standing in the front 'living room' of the ward, watching through the large glass windows at the doctors and nurses come and go and trying to plot a new escape.

He was about to turn when he saw something… unexpected. He walked quickly over to the glass and pounded his fist against it. "Hey!"

The man on the other side smiled and waved, looking cocky. "You mother fucker!" He growled.

The man just kept walking.

"Daken! I'm fucking talking to you!" Lester yelled as loud as he could.

"What the hell is your problem?" Mark demands from behind him.

Lester spins around, pressed almost chest to chest with the muscular guard. "You saw that man, right?"

Mark nods, looking a little wide eyed. "He's the new Head Night Nurse."

This time Lester's eyes got wide. "Let me talk to the dumb fuck in charge around this shit hole."

Mark chuckled a little. "Right. I'll get right on that." Still grinning, he put a hand on the bald man's shoulder. "Get away from the windows if you're going to pound and yell." He ordered, turning on his heel and going to the other side of the room.

Lester slammed his head into the glass in frustration. "What game is this fucker trying to play now?" He growled to himself, before being roughly manhandled away from the glass.

"I warned you." Mark said, through gritted teeth. "Go to your room. I'm sick of looking at you."

"Fine." Lester only agreed so he could go and try to scrounge up some sort of weaponry to use on Daken later on. It's the only reason that douche Mark wasn't a blood puddle on the floor. So In a way, Daken accidentally saved someone's life.

So kind of him, wasn't it?


End file.
